Am I Dreaming?
by Tracy-Lou
Summary: Ste is left emotionally broken following recent events. When Brendan appears in his bed each night, Ste believes him to be a delusion. One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!

Summary: Ste is left emotionally broken following recent events. When Brendan appears in his bed each night, Ste believes him to be a delusion.

A/N: One-shot written for Hanni (Happy birthday!) Some dark themes involved.

Am I Dreaming?

He appears every night without fail, ghost-like and mysterious, and spends the night in Ste's bed. He isn't real; Ste is certain of that. The visits only began a few weeks ago. He's been advisedto remain in the care hospital until he's better, whenever that is. They put him on suicide watch after his first attempt (hidden shard of glass from a drink of water) left him bleeding all over his bed covers. He kept trying to tell them he hadn't meant it that way, that he simply wanted to feel something again, anything, but naturally they had ignored him. He still has the scars and sometimes when he's feeling particularly loving, Brendan will kiss each and every one with reverence.

It's quiet here and incredibly lonely. Ste spends most days staring blankly out of the window, imagining himself playing out there with Leah and Lucas, free from worry or doubt. He tells himself that Amy will visit with them soon but he's lying to himself. The whole point of him being here is to get better and he knows he won't be able to see them until he is. Besides the nightly visits, no one comes to see him. He wonders about the friends he's made this year and whether they're really friends at all. In the end they only want to look out for themselves; they don't want to be lumbered with someone as damaged as him. They don't understand.

Brendan understands. Even though he's an illusion, he speaks to Ste like he used to, asks him if he's been eating enough and getting better.

"I can't believe they haven't put ye on a drip. Look at ye, Steven. Nothing of ye."

Ste shrugs. "It's okay. If I was really bad they'd force feed me like the anorexics."

"They don't do that, do they?" Brendan asks, propped up beside him on the bed on one elbow.

"I dunno really, just guessing."

"Ye will eat though, won't ye? They'll never let ye out of here otherwise."

"What's there to get out for? You really think Amy's gonna let me see the kids when I'm like this?"

"She will when ye are better. Besides, I'm here."

"But you aren't really." Ste insists.

Brendan sighs; he's heard this a million times already. "I _am _though, Steven. Why won't ye listen to me?"

"Can you just hold me please?" Ste asks, voice very quiet. Brendan envelops him in his arms, presses him tightly to his chest in a warm embrace. He kisses the top of his head lightly.

"Better?"

"Always."

The first night Brendan appeared to him had been undoubtedly dream-like. Stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the night light the nurses had installed for him to keep away the nightmares, Brendan stared at him warily as though uncertain of Ste's tangibility. Ste held his breath, daring not to speak in case it shattered the illusion. Brendan stepped forwards slowly, each movement measured as though he was afraid to startle him. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushed his fingers against Ste's scalp and smiled when he saw that Ste was awake.

"Missed ye something terrible." He murmured, voice tight with emotion.

"Me too." Ste croaked, opening his arms.

Brendan looked surprised before he shook himself, climbing into Ste's bed and holding him close. Ste was startled by how warm and real he felt, but he knew his imagination was strong and he had to at least believe in the idea that Brendan was really here if it was going to offer him any comfort.

It hadn't taken long for things to progress between them. For the first three nights Brendan simply held him, barely saying a word. When Ste had first told him that he knew he wasn't really here, Brendan had looked at him oddly.

"Not really here?"

"I know you aren't real." Ste said, matter-of-fact. "But I don't care, because it's better than nothing at all."

"Steven, I-" Brendan was unable to finish his thought. He had the strangest expression on his face, determined and fearful. "I can prove it to ye." He said eventually, holding Ste's chin by his fingertips.

"How?"

Brendan kissed him then, lips warm and soft and just as he remembered. Of course he felt that way though; he remembered everything about Brendan. He remembered his scent, musky and masculine. He remembered his touch, firm and powerful. He remembered his eyes, blue and bright, except now older and sadder.

He tugged his trousers off hastily, wanting to feel the skin on skin contact. Brendan's hands were all over him, exploring and caressing with confidence. It felt good to be touched with such purpose again and Ste found himself stifling his moans in the darkness of the hospital.

Brendan disappeared underneath the bed sheets, taking Ste's cock in his mouth and sucking lightly at the tip. His hands remained on Ste's stomach, stroking gently as he licked and brought him further down his throat, humming softly with each push. It felt deliciously real and for a moment Ste doubted his earlier conviction.

Brendan's mouth moved lower, lapping at the hairs around his anus, wetting them flat. Ste felt the familiar clench of his muscles around Brendan's probing tongue and then his slicked up fingers. He gripped his pillow in his arms, burying his face against the soft fabric. Everything was soft here, no hard edges on which to harm himself. Brendan was the antithesis of that and Ste loved it.

When the moment came, Brendan removed the pillow from his arms and looked him straight in the face. He pulled Ste's legs upright, lining himself up before entering him slowly as though he was made of glass. Ste made a soft keening noise, dragging him in fully with his legs wrapped around his waist.

"Don't you dare be gentle; I want to feel it like it's really happening."

Brendan made a distressed noise in the back of his throat before obliging. He fucked Ste with a fierceness that disarmed them both. Their fingers dug into smooth flesh, marking each other up.

"Ye will see these marks in the morning and remember." Brendan told him triumphantly.

Ste said nothing, arching his spine to accommodate each thrust.

When the morning did come and Ste was alone once more, he remembered the climax; the way Brendan had pushed their foreheads together and whispered endearments into his lips. He saw the marks, clear and conclusive on his skin, but still denied their origin. He knew his delusions were powerful, powerful enough for him to dig his own nails into his skin just to make it feel real.

It's been an awfully quiet day today. The air is warm on his skin, sun shining through the window. One of his nurses is in the room with him, fluffing his pillows and checking his vitals.

"Nice day for a walk, don't you think?" She asks kindly. Her golden eyes are reflected in the light. Ste thinks she's rather beautiful.

"Am I allowed?" He asks, turning his head to the side.

"Course." She says, still smiling. "And if you aren't then I won't tell anyone." She slips him a wink and draws a smile to his own lips.

"Okay." He agrees. "Not for long though, I want to be here when he comes."

"When who comes?" She asks in confusion, hand warm against his pulse.

"Don't matter."

She takes him around the grounds, the sunlight near blinding him. He hasn't been outside for a long time. He knows how pale he must look without the natural light. He remembers a time when his skin was as golden as the nurses eyes, and wishes that his Brendan could see that version of him again.

They go back inside when the sun is disappearing in the sky. He closes his eyes, ready for the delusion to begin.

This time however, Brendan doesn't come.

Days pass and his absence sets Ste back months. He starts to lash out again, screaming until his throat is raw with it. The nurses are forced to restrain him in case he harms himself. He wants to do damage; wants to feel his flesh tear and bleed. There's something consuming about the solitude. He'd grown used to Brendan's presence, as imaginary as it was. It had eased the ache inside of him, the ache that told him it would never get any better.

Eventually however he does return. He goes to Ste immediately and pulls him into his arms, burying his face against his neck.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs into his skin. "I had business to attend to."

"What kind of business?" Ste asks, choking back on a sob.

"Trying to get ye out of here."

Ste blinks, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Brendan pulls back, confused.

"I can't deal with that."

"Getting out?"

"No. You saying that like it could happen."

"But it _can _happen, Steven."

"No." Ste shakes his head resolutely. "I couldn't cope without even the idea of you here, let alone this delusion ending for good."

"It's not a fucking delusion." Brendan says quietly, losing his temper now.

"You can't be here, it wouldn't happen."

"I got out, Steven. Just let me explain-"

"No. I can't."

"Steven, this is ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous." Ste answers angrily. "I just want to…" his hands twist violently in mid-air.

"Go on then, hit me. Maybe then ye will see how real all of this is."

"Fuck you, Brendan."

Brendan glares at him, lips firmly pressed together.

"You gonna kiss me or not?" Ste says eventually. He can already feel his hardness beneath the covers.

"Ye serious?"

Ste pushes himself upright. There's still restraints across his stomach.

"Course I am."

Brendan hesitates for about a second before he complies, lips pressing against Ste's, hands finding skin underneath his clothes. He undoes the restraints, wanting to feel Ste on top of him this time. They grind together, complete in each others company. Ste feels something like triumph as he throws back his head and exposes his neck to Brendan's lips. He's never felt more free. He feels the rush of adrenaline and pleasure throughout his body, grinds down further into Brendan and cries out his orgasm.

Afterwards they lie together, sweaty and spent. Brendan's curled around his frame, holding his hands together across the bed.

"I'm coming back tomorrow for them to discharge ye."

"Sure." Ste murmurs, feeling sleepy.

"Ye aren't messed up, Steven. Ye have just forgotten what reality is. I get it; it's easy to push it all away when it's painful to think of the alternative. I used to when… ye know. But ye have to get it back. I couldn't get it back without ye and I'll be damned if I'll leave ye to this place to rot. Ye are better than that."

"I don't feel better than that." Ste murmurs, playing with Brendan's fingers absently.

"Well ye are. Tomorrow ye will see. I promise ye."

"Okay." Ste says sleepily, closing his eyes. "Love you, Bren."

"I love ye." Brendan mutters into his hair. He falls asleep to the sound of Brendan's heart beating against his back. He marvels at how alive he feels, and absently wonders if maybe they're both dead.

The next morning he wakes up alone. A part of him feels the pangs of rejection, beneath the disbelief that it's all pretend.

"Ste?" The kind nurse comes in, sweeping her long, black hair behind her in a ponytail. "Your boyfriend is here to collect you."

"What?" Ste sits up, stunned. "What are you talking about?"

The girl gives him a grin. "It's okay. I know about you two. I won't tell anyone what you got up to in here. It doesn't matter anyway; he's coming to collect you now. He sorted it all out so he can take care of you at home."

"Care of me? Home?" Ste repeats.

"Yup." She grins wider. "I do like a happy ending." She squeezes his hand once and departs.

Behind her Brendan enters through the doorway, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Believe me now?" He asks fondly.

"I'm not dreaming? It's all true?"

Brendan holds out a hand. "All true."


End file.
